While You Were Sleeping
by kissmelikeapirate
Summary: Emma Swan wiles away her days working at a token booth on the El daydreaming about her prince charming and planning vacations she never takes. Then one Christmas Eve life takes an unexpected turn and she's caught in the middle of a lie that could just be the worst thing that's ever happened to her. Or the best. [My shameless take on the movie of the same name!)
1. Christmas Eve

Liam.

_Li-am._

God, even his name was beautiful.

It was December 24th and I had just learned the name of the man I was going to marry.

Of course, we hadn't been introduced yet, we'd never even spoken - but I knew his smile brightened up my morning every weekday when he passed his token to me in my booth at Randolph Street El Station. He was just the kind of man I dreamed of meeting as a kid (before reality kicked in and I realized men aren't fairytale princes). Handsome, tall, kind (he has a kind smile so he must be kind, I had told myself), well dressed. My Prince Charming who I could daydream about as I handed out tokens for ten hours a day.

This morning he'd been searching his pocket for change when he placed his wallet on the shelf in front of me. It had flipped open allowing me to take a peek at his driver's license. Now I knew his name, (his beautiful name) I was one step closer to actually talking to him.

Deep in thought, I barely had time to register the silver coin being slid across to me, accompanied by a brief 'Merry Christmas' where our eyes met and I got lost in their blueness. Gorgeous blue eyes that matched his handsome face and well-cut Italian suit.

"Mer-" I began, but he was gone before even the first syllable passed my lips. I slumped down, my chin resting on my mitten covered hand as I watched him walk along the platform.

"Maybe tomorrow," I sighed to myself, as I arranged the tokens in front of me into a Christmas tree shape before groaning when I realized tomorrow was Christmas day and he won't be working. Not like me. I always worked the holidays.

Slouching further into my chair, my shoulders curved forward with the realization I wouldn't see him again for at least a 48 hours. Truth be told, he was the one thing I looked forward to every day, his smile giving me that little boost needed to get through yet another long and boring shift.

So I guess I'm painting a very sad picture of myself here, aren't I? Well, my life isn't so bad. I have a cat, Mr. Jingles. He's kinda unfriendly - hisses a lot - but if I feed him Fancy Feast, he rubs up against my legs and purrs so I think he likes me. I have an apartment; rented, but all to myself none the less. No family - I grew up in foster care but I do have friends. Pretty good ones. I have a job that gives me a lot of overtime which is letting me save for my first trip abroad. I'm single but it's through choice, real men just complicate things.

See, I am happy.

Sorta.

It was still pretty dark out, and I stared along the platform as the dim yellow lights that lit it flooded the station with their weak glow. There were only a few people waiting for the train, the morning rush having not yet started.

Suddenly I caught a glimpse of him. His long, grey wool coat flashing into view. There was another man beside him and I gasped as I watched the two men scuffle before Liam fall backwards onto the track.

Instinct kicked in. I unlocked the door of my booth and sped along the platform, running into the guy who had pushed him. I could see Liam's wallet in his hand but I didn't have time to address that particular issue as I could clearly see Liam's unconscious body sprawled across the track.

"Help!" I shouted as I leapt off the platform. "Someone call 911!"

Taking hold of the lapels of his jacket, I shook his body. "Sir, sir, you need to wake up."

(And is it a bad time to mention that he smelled as good as he looks?)

There was no response and panic set in when I saw the lights of the next train looming in the distance. "Sir! Sir!" I cried, shaking him harder but it was no use

The train sounded its horn. I could hear the screech of the brakes being slammed on but it kept coming and I knew that the train couldn't possibly come to a full stop in time.

"Shit shit shit!"

Not knowing what else to do, I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and pulled - rolling him onto my body and under the overhanging platform, nudging his left leg off the rail just as the carriages came to a stop where we had been lying moments earlier.

/

The following minutes were a blur. Raised voices, sirens, lights, the bleak whiteness of hospital corridors. The police took a statement, the gash to my forehead that I hadn't even felt was patched up and it was almost twelve when I managed to find out which ward Liam had been taken to.

The elevator doors pinged open on the fifth floor and I stepped towards the empty nurses' station. The rooms had glass paneled walls and I craned my neck trying to work out which one was his. Then I saw him - he was in the first room along the hallway to my left. His head was bandaged and he was unconscious, I could see the heart monitor beside him beeping softly. Thank God he was alive.

I slumped against the wall. He looked so helpless and vulnerable. God, what if he never woke up? I hadn't even gotten the chance to talk to him. I sighed, frowning as I whispered, "That's the man I was going to marry."

"Can I help you?"

Starting at the unexpected voice, I spun around to see a nurse beaming at me, clipboard in hand. Her bright smile threw me off for a moment before I straightened myself up.

"Um, yeah," I began, "I'm Emma Swan. I was wondering if I can see Liam? The guy who fell onto the El tracks? I helped him and I just wanted to know how he was doing…" My voice faded away as the nurse's eyes widened.

She stepped towards me and lowered her voice, "Well normally we only allow immediate family but I'm sure we can make an exception."

Sighing in relief, I followed her along the corridor and into his room where I sat at the small chair beside his bed. Up close he looked pale but otherwise pretty normal.

"Let him hear your voice," the nurse urged as she left.

"Um, Hi. Everything is gonna be okay. I know it," a lie but is sounded like the right thing to say, "It's gonna be fine." I reached forward and took his hand in mine. His skin was softer than I imagined. I watched his chest rise and fall and felt a little awkward, like maybe I had crossed some kind of line until I heard the sound of raised voices.

"Where is he? He's my son and I demand to see him!"

Looking up, I saw a small group of people marching along the hall from the nurses' station. _His family._

"Oh he's so pale, my baby! Frank, isn't he pale?"

Instantly I stood up as they reached the room, creeping back against the wall, hoping they hadn't noticed me, hoping that maybe I could slip away before I had to explain what I was doing in there.

The nurse who had helped me was racing after them, "Excuse me! Excuse me! Who are you?"

"We're his family!" the man answered. Frank. I guessed that was his dad - they shared the same mop of curly hair. The woman with him took a seat in the chair beside him, running her hand over his cheek.

"What happened to him?" she asked, looking around the room.

"He was pushed from the platform at the train station," I answered, quickly realizing that the question was not aimed at me when five pairs of eyes turned in my direction.

"Who's she?" Frank asked (I guessed we were almost on first name terms now).

"She's his fiancée," chipped in the nurse, a bemused expression on her face as she looked between the older man and me.

"His fiancée?" he repeated.

"Liam's engaged?" chipped in an older woman at the back of the group. She had small glasses perched on the tip of her nose and a raggedy bun of greying hair atop her head.

"Yes, I thought-" began the nurse.

Holy crap, I thought, trying to explain, "No, I think-"

But then everyone was talking at once and I could only make out snippets of conversation as I was almost forgotten-

"Maybe he was busy?"

"Too busy to tell his parents he got engaged?"

"He does work hard."

"Don't yell at him Frank!"

"I'm _not_ yelling at him, Mother!"

I watched the older lady's face turned pale as the hubbub continued. She slumped against the youngest person in the room - a blonde girl who looked about fifteen.

"Are you okay?" exclaimed the nurse.

"Ah Granny's fine," Frank said, "Already had three heart attacks."

"They weren't attacks, they were episodes," sniffed Granny, pushing her glasses further up her nose.

The confusion was broken when a white coated doctor walked into the room and addressed the nurse, "Sandra - what is she doing here?" pointing at me and making me wish this whole goddamn experience could be over.

"She saved his life," Sandra explained, looking more confused than ever at what was happening around her.

(So that made two of us).

"Yeah, but, uh-" I began, trying to think of a way to talk myself out of this mess.

"I thought he was pushed off a train platform?" the young girl asked.

"She jumped on the tracks and saved his life," the nurse explained.

"You jumped on the tracks?" They were the first words the final guy in the room has said. I looked over at his tall gangly form and shock of red hair. He did not look like a relative.

I pulled a painful smile, unable to form any words.

"It's only supposed to be family in here-" the doctor began.

"She is family," Frank insisted, looking at me sternly. I could only swallow and nod my head.

"She's his fiancée," repeated Sandra. I felt my pulse quickening as panic spread.

Holding up my hands I tried to stop the talking, "Look, I think you really don't understand-"

His mother stood and walked towards me, her arms open, "You know we really haven't seen him much, he's been working so much, and we didn't know-"

"I…"

"I always wanted him to find a nice girl," she went on, tears welling in her eyes. "I'm so glad he found you," she sobbed before wrapping her arms around me while I stood stock still. And within a few seconds I was being hugged by everyone in the room.

Fuckedy fuck fuck. What a royal mess.

/

And for some unknown reason I couldn't find a way to tell them that it was all a big mistake. They'd held me so tight and Granny had brightened up so much that it felt cruel to say I had lied while their son lay in a coma. I made small talk with them as we sat around the bed. They were nice - real nice. Like the kind of family I'd hoped for in the past. They smiled and asked a million questions. I actually felt useful - like somehow I was taking their minds off the whole horrible situation.

So when an hour had passed and we were told the doctors wanted to run some tests I left the hospital, taking the elevator down with his family and exchanging more hugs before I wandered the El station, a pseudo fiancée who had just had the most bizarre day of her life.


	2. Christmas Day

I slept like hell.

I'd lain in bed, the day's events running over and over in my mind, still unsure about how everything had happened. I felt guilty, a little nauseous, scared - oh God, what if they found out? Finally as sleep claimed me, I made a decision. I would go to the hospital in the morning and confess.

Thank God I'd been given the midday shift on Christmas Day as I completely slept through my 6am alarm and it was almost nine thirty by the time I squeezed the remnants of sleep from my eyes and slid into the shower.

After a cup of strong black coffee I wrapped myself up in my long down filled jacket prepared to face the harsh midwinter Chicago weather, though perhaps not quite as ready to face his parents. The walk to the El seemed to take forever. Snow had started to fall again, lying lazily on the damp streets before quickly fading away. My feet felt so heavy - a bit like I was a deep sea diver in one of those old fashioned leaden suits. Or perhaps I was more like a condemned prisoner on his way to his death - trying to claw the last ounce of every proceeding moment.

Before long, I was back at the hospital, staring up at the looming grey building as the streets around were eerily quiet, the usual hubbub of city life replaced by a gentle stillness that seemed at odds with the Chicago I knew. On autopilot, I made my way up to the fifth floor. It was already after eleven and my shift started at twelve. Just enough time to explain, I guessed.

When I arrived at his room I was surprised to see it empty of other visitors. I stepped in and closed the door, folding my coat over my arm as I stared at the man unconscious before me. "Hi," I whispered a little shyly, brushing my hair behind my ears, "Well I guess I should introduce myself. I'm Emma - Emma Swan." No response, of course, just the steady beat of his heart monitor. "So your family thinks we are engaged. I've never been engaged before so this is a new experience for me."

_Okay, _I told myself, _see this wasn't so hard. _Practicing on Liam had to make telling his family easier, right?

"Emma!"

I spun to my left and my heart leapt into my throat when I saw the assembled group of Liam's family - his parents Frank and Alice, Granny, his little sister Tink, and his godfather Archie.

"We didn't expect to see you here!"

"Hi," I mumbled as I was bundled into another warm hug.

"So how's Liam?" asked Alice as she walked to her son's bed.

"I think he has more color," I offered as my brain scrambled to think, ally carefully laid plans of confessions crumbling to dust around me as I saw their glowing faces.

"Oh that's right Alice, he does have more color," chipped in Granny, peering at Liam down her tiny wire-framed glasses.

As they fussed over Liam, I suddenly had the instinct to bolt. I couldn't do it - I couldn't tell them. "Um, well, it was great to see you guys but I have to go to work." As I started to pull on my coat I noticed Alice whispering in Frank's ear.

"Hey, Emma?"

"Hmm?" I responded, smiling stiffly as I looked at Frank.

"Do you have any plans for this evening? We plan on having a little Christmas get together, low key and all with Liam laid up as he is and it would be nice if you could join us."

"Oh," I began, blushing as I sought an excuse, "I would love to but can't…"

"But Killian's going to be there," chimed in Tink.

"That's right," Alice added, "You haven't met Killian."

_Killian? _

"No, I haven't…"

"Oh, he'll be so happy to meet you," insisted Alice, nodding knowingly.

Frank took a step closer and pulled out his wallet. Flipping it open he pulled out a card, 'Jones & Son Furniture. ' "Take our address and number. Think it over, it would be great to get to know you better."

And as my trembling fingers took the card and slid it into my pocket, I knew he meant it. These were nice people. Good people.

"Okay," I nodded, quickly excusing myself and dashing to the elevators.

I still had time to spare so I walked to work, kicking away at lumps of slushy snow as I went, slowly talking myself into the idea of spending Christmas with the Jones family.

/

I stood outside their home, shivering; a rather pathetic bunch of last minute flowers clutched in my hand, my feet dancing on the spot as I built up the courage to press the doorbell.

_This was crazy. Madness. I should turn back home and get some Chinese take-out, snuggle up with Mr. Jingles and watch bad movies. I should leave. Now._

And I was going to leave. Really, I was. But then the door opened and it was Alice welcoming me with a huge smile, saying I must be freezing and pulling me inside.

/

It was nice. Really nice.

Christmas in foster care was often a haphazard affair. Wrestling over the potatoes with half a dozen other kids did not a pleasant day make. It had gotten to the point where I'd tried to avoid the holiday as much as possible, staying in my room, or when I was older, running away.

But this was what I'd always imagined a real Christmas to be like. A tall, freshly cut tree, dripping with ornaments and bolstered from beneath by a teeming tower of well wrapped presents. The air smelled like mulled wine and a CD of seasonal songs played out as I was greeted by the family.

Tink had dressed up in a little green elf outfit and was walking around with a platter of Santa cookies, the bells on her hat jingling as she walked. Granny sat in a large armchair in the corner of the living room, a glass of eggnog in her hand and a sleepy smile on her face. Frank and Alice fussed over me, offering me wine (or something stronger, Frank suggested) asking if I was too cold, or hot, how my day at work had been-

Just normal stuff.

But I loved it.

All thoughts of confessing that evening faded away as I bit back a yawn—not a tired one, but of something that felt like contentment.

/

Alice soon called us in for dinner.

We were making our way to our seats when there was a voice from the hallway. "Sorry I'm late!"

"You just made it," replied Frank who was to my left, "The prodigal son returns!"

Ah, so this was the mysterious Killian. I settled my face in a pleasant smile as I waited for Liam's brother to enter the room.

And that's when the air left my lungs.

You could tell he was his brother - same shaped eyes and jaw. But this Jones's eyes were a deep, ocean blue where his brother's were a clearer, watery shade. Liam's clean shaven face contrasted sharply with Killian's layer of stubble - deep brown, almost black, just like his mop of thick, straight hair.

Then I realized I was staring. Blushing, I pulled my napkin onto my lap.

"Killian, you'd be late to your own funeral," Granny scolded as he bent down to kiss her on the cheek.

"I think it's called fashionably late," he quipped as he gave his mother a hug and then ruffled Tink's hair, "Hey little sis - trying to make a fashion statement?"

"Har-de-har," she replied, rolling her eyes and self-consciously tugging at her pointy green hat.

He looked around the room and I saw him make a double take when his eyes landed on me. "And who do we have here?" he asked, his eyes narrowing as I felt myself burn under his gaze.

"That's Emma," Tink answered, "Liam's fiancée."

A look of confusion crossed his face as he digested the words.

"Liam's not engaged," he insisted, folding his arms.

Crap. This was my moment of truth. They were going to find out this was all a big, very weird, lie-

"Oh yes he is," barked Granny, "_And_ she saved his life," she added, nodding before hiccoughing softly into her half-empty eggnog glass.

"If Liam were engaged, he would have told me."

I squirmed in my seat, wishing the ground would do me a favor and open up and swallow me.

"I thought the same at first," Frank replied before placing his hand over mine, making me start, "But you know Liam - he's impulsive, has his own mind. I'm sure he was going to tell us soon."

I nodded as the color drained from my face. Killian was still observing me oddly, his head a little tilted, my heart racing as I tried to look as normal as possible. Finally he nodded lightly and took his seat next to Tink.

With the spotlight finally off me, I relaxed. Just a little.

/

"So, I have to ask - how did you meet?"

At first the question threw me off guard. Meet? Who? Me?

Then I wizened up and looked over at Mrs Jones who had asked the questioned.

"Um."

I was already caught up in a big lie so I decided to just embellish the truth. "He used to come to my booth every day and slip me a token."

"And then he asked you out?" chipped in Granny.

"I guess…" I smiled, thinking back to my daydreams of him really asking me out and generally just talking to me.

"Hmph," came a snort from across the table.

"What is it Killian?" grumbled Frank as he speared a boiled potato with his fork.

"Nothing," he shrugged, taking a sip of wine with scowl on his face.

Ignoring her son, Alice pressed on, "So what was it you first noticed about him?"

"His eyes," I replied automatically, my own instantly flashing to another pair of blue eyes, though darker and more brooding. I quickly looked away.

"Oh he does have pretty eyes. Always did," sniffed Granny, still clutching her glass of egg nog, "We knew he would be a ladies man every since kindergarten when he had three girlfriends."

"Quite the ladies man," I laughed, trying to ignore the glowering look Killian seemed to be giving me.

"Quite," he echoed finishing his glass of red before reaching for the bottle to refill. "I'm sorry," he sighed, "It's just you just don't seem his type."

"Killian!" Alice scolded, before looking at me, "Liam does not have a type."

"Everyone has a type," Killian retorted, staring his mother down as he took another sip.

"So what's yours then?" Granny interupted, "Anything with a pulse?" I held back the urge to laugh at the way Killian frowned.

"I like brunettes."

"You like blondes," insisted Tink, tossing half a bread roll to her brother and rolling her eyes. Tink looked at me and winked, her hat jingling as she eyed the long, blonde pony tail that hung over my shoulder.

"Enough of this nonsense. And then what?" his mother continued.

"And then one date turned into another and before I knew it he was taking me out to dinner to propose. That was two weeks ago."

A gentle hush fellow over the table as Frank patted me sympathetically on the hand.

Damn, I was getting good at this lying thing.

"Well before you know it he will be back up on his feet and we'll be planning the biggest wedding this neighbourhood has seen in years. How do you feel about being a spring bride?"

I blushed at Alice's enthusiastic and positive outlook. In a weird sort of way it was almost like how I expected a real mother to behave and I had to mentally pinch myself to remind me that this was a woman I met just over twenty four hours ago and that as soon as her son awoke she'd surely never wanna see me again…

So a little sad, I just wanted to enjoy the moment.

I simply smiled and whispered, "Sure."

/

Somehow it got really late and Alice was making me up a bed on the couch. I mildly protested but was easily encouraged to stay the night. Truth be told I liked it in the Jones's house. It was warm, cosy and homely.

Slowly the members of the family slipped off to bed after opening presents (I got a scarf from 'Santa') and playing a few rounds of charades where we were all throughly whipped by Granny. Killian had stayed pretty quiet through the proceedings; except to give the proscribed thanks for his gifts he sat on the corner of the couch nursing what looked like a glass of rum as the rest of us talked away like old pals.

He was a puzzle to me. Working where I did, I liked to consider myself a pretty good study of character. Spending the day watching people interact gave me an insight into all the behaviours that were tells of a person's personality. But Killian was an enigma.

He seemed one moment open and friendly, and the next uptight and sarcastic. I could tell his family loved him greatly, but when he looked at me I felt a little shiver run down my spine.

Did he know?

I could hear the mantle clock chiming one am when I padded into the kitchen for a glass of water. Too much mulled wine had left me somewhat parched. The light was already on when I stepped through the doorway and there was the younger brother making a sandwich from left over ham.

"You want one?" he asked, holding up a slice of cold meat as I shook my head.

"No thanks, I just need some water."

Silently I located a glass and turned on the faucet, waiting for the water to chill before I filled my glass. Behind me I heard Killian wrapping up the rest of the ham and placing it in the refrigerator. When I turned around he was looking at me.

"Goodnight," I nodded, swallowing a nervous lump in my throat as I took a step forward.

"Emma-"

"Uhuh?"

"I think we got off on the wrong foot. I mean - I'm sorry for giving you a hard time earlier."

I shook my head and my eyes flickered closed, "It's fine. I know this whole situation sounds…"

"Unbelievable?" he offered.

"Yeah," I nodded, listening the the second hand of the clock tick, the noise echoing around the tiled kitchen. "And really, it's fine."

"Good," he smiled, letting out a sigh of relief, "I guess if we are going to be related soon then we need to be on good terms."

_Related. Family._

_He would be my brother in law._

For some reason that idea left a sour taste in my mouth.

"I guess," I agreed, desperate to escape to the refuge of the nest of blankets on the couch.

"Well then, welcome to the family," he said softly, looking me earnestly in the eye as he picked up his plated sandwich. I felt the hairs on the back of my neck prickle. It seemed nonsensical but I felt the strangest pull towards him. The air hung with electricity as the moment stretched heavily between us.

I knew I had to walk past him to leave the room. He didn't seem in a hurry to move himself.

"Thank you," I whispered, looking down at the checkered floor as I walked towards the door.

When I passed him, I looked back. He hadn't moved. "Goodnight," I added.

"Goodnight," he replied as I walked down the hallway.

I climbed back into my makeshift bed and tried to forget the unsettled feeling in my stomach.


	3. The 28th

For two whole days I had managed to pretty much avoid thinking about my little 'situation', two full shifts (plus overtime) had lent little room to mulling over what had occurred in the previous days. In fact, I almost managed to convince myself that I could just run away from the whole mess.

As I walked home along the icy paths, I wondered if I could just lay low - perhaps stay hidden enough that maybe they'd think I given up hope, or moved on (Christ, not that I wanted anything to happen to Liam…). It was certainly a plan worth considering.

Reaching my block, I slipped my hand in my pocket to find my keys as I made my way to my building. Soon I could see a figure standing under the entranceway's awning. Now, it's not like I live in a bad area, but I do make a point of carrying pepper spray in my purse, so I was cautious.

As I got within ten feet of the door, a voice called out, "Emma?"

I froze, searching for the features of the face, looking for something I recognized as my free hand fumbled for the spray.

"Emma?" the voice asked again. Then I realized its vague familiarity and the pieces began to fall into place.

"Killian?"

He stepped forward into the streetlight, revealing himself, as I had guessed, as Liam's younger brother. "Guilty," he replied with a smirk.

"What the hell are you doing here? You almost gave me a heart attack."

"Sorry," he apologized with a shrug, "Dad asked me to swing by and drop off something - an engagement present."

"Oh," I sighed, my face falling as the past two days respite ended, "But how did you find out where I live?"

"My mom sweet talked the nurse at the hospital."

Nodding, I smiled vaguely, "Oh, yeah. Well, um, what is it?"

"Hmm?" he asked, seemingly lost in thought. I noticed his eyes seemed to be fixed on my face. "Oh, the gift, it's in the truck." He nodded in the direction of a large white truck parked at the curb. I followed him, carefully avoiding puddles and patches of ice, watching as he pulled open the doors.

"Wow," I whispered, my eyes immediately focusing on a small, white sailboat that had been dismantled and stacked in the space. "Is that-?"

"A boat? Yeah."

"Is it?-" I asked, getting a little excited.

His eyes widened a little in surprise before he shook his head, "Sadly not, it's just something I've been working on."

"Oh," I replied, a little disappointed. "So you… make boats?"

Smiling bashfully, he stuffed his hands in his jeans pockets, "On the side. I've got a thing for being on the water. I actually trained to be a merchant marine."

While I watched him look up at me, almost shyly, through his irritatingly thick lashes, I felt a thud in my chest. The kind of clenching, twisting sensation you get when are hit with a revelation: Killian was gorgeous. Yes, I'd hardly _not_ noticed the blueness of his eyes or the sharp line of his jaw on first meeting him, but now, on the dimly lit street, I saw all his attractiveness for what it was. He was all long limbed and slender, but at the same time broad - with jeans that hugged his thighs just enough to tell me he was in good shape. He was dressed much the same as the day I had met him - blue plaid shirt and bootcut jeans over a pair of scuffed brown boots. Over his shirt he wore a leather jacket, faded black and worn around the cuffs. It gave him a nonchalant air when combined with his mussed up hair and perma-stubble. All together it was a somewhat…_ distracting _ensemble.

Killian Jones was not my type - I went for clean cut guys, with shiny teeth and close shaves. Not guys who looked like they had just walked out of a rock concert.

(But I'd be lying if I said just being near him didn't make my heart beat a little faster.)

"Really?" I was surprised. Admittedly I'd known this man for a grand total of three days, but I'd never really considered him being passionate about anything. "So why are you now peddling used furniture?" I clapped my hand over my mouth as I spoke, realizing instantly how crass it must have sounded. If Killian had noticed though, he ignored me.

"Well, it wasn't exactly my boyhood dream." He laid back against the open door and let out a deep breath that instantly condensed in the frigid air. "I was in my final year of college when my grandfather died and my father was left running the business alone. Liam was already working his way up the corporate ladder and my father couldn't continue by himself. So…"

There was a sadness - a resignation almost, in his voice that I hadn't expected he was capable of. All at once I felt sorry for him and his lost dreams and also just a little affected by his sacrifice.

A quiet moment passed until I shivered when the wind whipped up and bit my exposed patches of skin. "So, the gift…"

"This," he announced, climbing up onto the back of the van and gesturing to a small love seat, covered in purple chenille that was pushed into one corner.

"Oh, um, lovely," I lied, trying not to grimace. "Maybe it would be better at Liam's place? I mean, my apartment's pretty small and all…"

It's not like I had the space, or the desire, for such a piece of furniture. (Never mind the complications of accepting an engagement gift from my fictional future in laws). Thank God Killian smiled and nodded.

"Good idea. You have keys?"

I was just about to panic when I remembered the envelope of Liam's personal effects that had been thrust in my hand when I left in the hospital that first day. I hadn't looked inside but surely there must be a set there.

"Just give me a minute," I smiled before dashing off to my apartment.

_/_

It was a short drive - just enough time to make pleasantries and chat about Liam's progress. I learned the doctors had said they were hopeful they would be able to wake him in a few days, once the last of his internal swelling had gone down. I felt relieved but also conflicted - Liam's recovery would mean whatever was happening now would be over.

But that's what I wanted, right?

"I wouldn't park here," I warned as Killian pulled the truck into a small space right outside the apartment building.

"It's the perfect spot," he retorted as he slipped off his seatbelt.

"And it's tiny," I quipped as I did the same, deciding now was not the time to play 'who's right'.

Together we hoisted the sofa from the truck and onto the sidewalk. I found Liam's electronic key fob that let us into a small lobby. There, not knowing which apartment was his brother's, I let Killian lead the way, both of us laughing in relief when the furniture just fit into the elevator.

"I did not want to drag that up all those flights of stairs," he groaned as he lay back against the wall and pressed '20'.

We didn't talk much as the elevator zoomed up the building. He was watching the numbers change on the little screen above the doors. It meant _I _could watch him for a minute or so without awkwardness. Sure, it felt a little creepy looking at him out of the corner of my eye as he shifted on his feet and scratched behind his ear but it was interesting. There was no swagger, no false confidence in his air. Interesting because that's the opposite of what I had expected.

"Finally," he groaned as the doors opened and we picked up the love seat and stumbled ten feet down the hall. I fumbled for the keys in my pocket (a 'real' key this time), having to wiggle it a few times to get it in the lock. I could hear Killian breathing heavily behind me. I tried to hurry, but in my haste I pushed a little too hard and ended up sprawled face down on the soft rug that lined the entrance way.

"Dammit!" I cried, slowly moving to sit as I rubbed my knee where it had hit the ground.

"You okay?" Killian called from the doorway, his head peeking over the mountain of purple chenille. My cheeks started to turn pink – damn, I was such a klutz. God, he must have thought I was such an idiot - tripping over my own feet.

(Not that I cared what he thought, of course.)

"Yeah," I replied, dusting myself off and taking a few steps to pick up my forgotten end of the sofa.

Together we angled the awkward piece of furniture inside, just managing to get it into the living room, inching it down the narrow hallway. Finally when it was in situ, we both sank down on the soft cushions with a sigh.

"That was…" I began.

"More difficult than I anticipated," he finished and I caught his eye when he flashed me a wide grin.

(My stomach clenched again.)

"You'll forgive me if I don't take you on permanently…" he teased, brushing his hand over the fabric.

"Hey," I complained, punching him lightly on the shoulder, "I could have just let you move it all by yourself. That's your _job_, right?"

"Touché," he muttered softly, his smile falling and making me regret my jibe.

Standing slowly, he walked over to the full length windows that lined one side of the apartment. It was an amazing view - the city was laid out in front of me, as though the whole of Chicago had been presented in miniature. The lights of the buildings shone brightly, the Charles River wound its way through the buildings, taking its time as it made its way to the lake. Even the El tracks looked beautiful from this point, the veins of the city, their blood the tiny carriages that traveled upon them.

"Quite the view, huh?" he whispered when I joined him at the window.

"Sure is," I sighed, taking a step forward and placing my hand on the chilly glass.

"But you're used to this, right?"

I turned my head, taking in a sharp breath as I saw something cross his face, something that looked like doubt. Dropping my gaze, I nodded, "Yeah. Seen it lots of times," I lied.

For a moment we watched the city in silence. I wanted to say something, but I didn't know what. Instead I fidgeted a little awkwardly with the cuff of my heavy wool coat. There was something unsettling in the air and I couldn't quite put my finger on it.

"Liam's a great guy," Killian finally said.

"I know."

"And if anyone ever hurt him-"

He paused and turned to look at me again. His lips were parted and his face serious. I tilted my head as he looked at me. He seemed to be trying to work something out.

"I wouldn't do that…" I whispered.

Closing his eyes, he softly nodded.

A clock chimed. I checked my watch. "It's nine already, where's the day gone?" I laughed, trying to ease a little of the strange tension.

"Yeah, time flies-"

He didn't finish his sentence but I felt my cheeks heat up all the same.

(He liked my company?)

Clapping his hands together, he shook his head quickly and turned to the door. "Come on, Swan, let's get you home."

/

"Shit!" he groaned.

I held back a little smug smile as I saw that the truck was now completely boxed in its spot by two newly parked cars.

"How the hell am I going to get out?"

"You're not," I smiled, folding my arms as I watched him inspect the perimeter of the vehicle. "It's past eight - they can park all night if they want to."

He was frowning when he reached me again. My little smile turned into a giggle at his oh-so serious expression. "What?" he asked.

"Nothing," I replied with a shrug.

"Don't say it-" he warned, approaching me with his index finger raised.

"I wouldn't dare-" I began.

"Good."

But when he turned back to open the door of the cab I couldn't help myself saying in a whispered sing-song tone, "Well I did try and warn you…"

He shot me a glare. I guess he was trying to look annoyed, but the way he raised one eyebrow and the brooding expression… Well, he just looked kinda hot. Pushing away that thought, I quickly turned my back to him.

"Well, I guess I'd better start walking then."

The door slammed. "You can't walk back by yourself."

"I'm a big girl," I promised, looking back at him over my shoulder. He'd pulled on a black beanie hat and a pair of thick gloves.

"Never said you weren't," he quipped as he quickly made his way to my side. "I was actually hoping you could protect me…"

I laughed. Again.

God this man made me laugh.

I mean, he wasn't funny in a 'ha ha' joke way, but there was something in his way of speaking and easygoing manner that just made me smile.

"Well, I suppose I could do you that favor. I mean, I have pepper spray and all."

"Oh, good," he nodded, locking the door and nodding in my direction. "You lead the way."

/

It started to snow.

We'd been walking for about ten minutes through deserted streets when the fresh flakes began to fall like tiny feathers, dancing in the air. The powdery precipitation added a silky layer to the already treacherous ice. We walked carefully and slowly, talking about silly things - TV shows and sports teams (we were both Bears fans), where we went to high school and college, where you could get the best Chicago 'dog'…

It was oddly comfortable. Almost like we had known each other for years, not days. I tried not to dwell on the fact he was the brother of my fake fiancé. Instead I just let myself enjoy the company of a guy without complications. Over four years had passed since my last (failed) relationship. Since then, I'd decided men were just a little too much work. But this - this was fine. This was _safe_.

(Not that I was scared of getting hurt. No, not that.)

And as we walked I began to realize just why I had gotten so hung up on Liam Jones. He was picture perfect and all I ever wanted - on paper. But realistically, I had known that there was little chance of us ever really speaking; even less of us becoming something more than almost strangers. My little fantasy world had been a safe place to hide away from all the real out there: the hurt, the pain…

(The smiles and the laughter and the… love?)

We reached one of the bridges that span over the river. After we'd walked halfway across I paused and looked out onto the almost frozen water below. On the walkways along the river bank there were a few couples walking arm in arm - the pathway lit by old-fashioned streetlamp and shimmering with winter frost. It was pretty romantic.

"I love this time of year," I said to myself.

"Yeah, me too," Killian agreed, sidling up beside me and leaning on the metal railing of the bridge. "It's like a new start - the cold and ice just wipes away the past."

"That's a nice way of thinking about it," I whispered, stepping a little closer to him. "Do you make New Year's resolutions?"

"Me?" he scoffed, flashing me a glance, "Nah, I gave up on those years ago. I think actions speak louder than words… Putting such a finite point on what I want to achieve is a little limiting."

"Is that so?" I teased, gently laughing at his way with words. It was certainly at odds with a career in used furniture sales.

He twisted his mouth around and then bit down on his bottom lip, "Aye Swan, anything is possible, right?"

"Why do you call me that?"

"What - Swan?"

I nodded.

"That's your name, right?"

"My _last _name…"

Then he paused and looked at me - hard - straight in the eye. It was a little unnerving and I tensed up - a little scared at what was happening, a little unsure about what was happening.

"Well, it suits you. Do you mind?"

And I blushed (again). Thank God it was chilly so I could pass it off as having a little chill. "No."

"Then I'll keep on using it."

My mind trailed back to our earlier conversation. Curiosity began to claw at my back, made me want to know just a little bit more about Killian-

"So, if you _did _have to make a resolution-," I continued, and he frowned, "I mean someone came with a gun to your head and forced you to make one. What would it be?"

Little lines formed on his forehead as he thought. He looked out over the river so I could see his profile starkly contrasted with the night sky. The light breeze played with his hair and I had this sudden urge to reach out and touch it.

I pushed my hands tighter in my pockets.

"If _forced, _I would have say that I would look at getting back out on the water."

"That's not a resolution," I responded with a quiet huff.

"Fine," he sighed. "I want to work on a boat. Any kind of boat. That's my fake resolution."

"You miss it?"

Nodding he turned to me, "Yeah. So much. I mean I get out on the lake a few times over the summer… but it's not the same."

I folded my arms as I felt the impact of the temperature dropping. My toes were becoming numb and I scrunched them together in my boots to get the blood flowing.

"So why don't you? What's stopping you?"

He opened his mouth and then seemed to hesitate before lowering his head. "Dad. He - he needs me."

"Have you talked to him about this?"

"No," he admitted quickly, shaking his head. "The business is his dream - his baby. It would crush him if I left."

"But what about your dreams, Killian?" I asked softly, resisting another urge to touch him - soothe him somehow.

"They can wait," he replied with a smile.

We locked eyes. I saw the sadness inside him. Again - that resignation I'd seen earlier. I looked away - this was getting way too intense.

"What about you?" he asked unexpectedly, "What would your resolution be?"

I thought a minute. A stream of ideas floated past me, but there was only that resonated. "To be happy."

He dusted the frost from his gloves, the little icy flakes stuck to his jeans. I waited for him to reply.

"Good thing you have Liam then."

With that, he stepped away from the barrier and step back onto the path.

"Yeah," I whispered as I unfolded my arms and joined him. "Lucky me."

/

"Well… We're here."

Finally back at my apartment building, I stood a little awkwardly in front of the gate.

"Thank you for escorting me," Killian replied with a mock bow.

"Are you sure you can make it the rest of the way? I mean, there's a little old lady over there, she could walk you…"

He smiled and raised his brows, "I think a cab will suffice."

I looked over my shoulder at the doorway. There was a sign reading 'Please use side entrance'. I scowled, that door had broken more times than I cared to count in the past year.

"Well, I guess I'd better be going then. Um, thank you for the loveseat."

"I'll let Dad know you liked it."

Smiling a little, I started to walk to the other doorway, across the courtyard beside the building. "Well, goodnight," I nodded as I slipped past Killian. I wanted to say something a little more profound but my mind when blank.

I took a few footsteps along the pathway. My shoulders sagged little as I walked. I suddenly felt… sad, I guess. I didn't want the night to end.

I'd liked Killian's company. Really liked it.

When I heard footsteps behind me, I spun around. Suddenly, my feel lost their traction on the icy ground. Then Killian was there, right in front of me, grabbing my arms. "Whoa!" he cried as he tried to steady me, both our feet dancing on the ice like newborn deer before we landed with a crash - him on his back, me pressed on top of his body. "Oomph," he sighed as I hit him in the gut with my hand.

"Sorry!" I whined, trying to peel myself way from him.

"S'fine," he coughed, his face scrunching up and his hand moving to inspect his head.

"Are you okay?" I asked, hovering above him, my long blonde hair pooling against his jacket. His eyes flicked closed and for a second I was really worried…

Then his lips raised in a smirk, his free hand moving to my hip as he slid to sit on the ice, eventually looking back at me - his cheeks rosy red and his hat lopsided from the fall. "Never been better," he quipped.

(And just for a second - half a second even - I held my breath. Our faces were inches away. My eyes widened just a little, as his narrowed, like he had just realised something. I closed my eyes and bit my bottom lip and pulled back, struggling to stand as we both avoided each other's gaze.)

After a few seconds he tried to stand too, but was slipping about ridiculously on the ice. So I ended up helping him up slowly as he groaned, complaining of bruises and aches in the morning. "God you're a baby," I teased once I finally had him standing again.

"I'll have you know that landing on ice with a fully grown woman on top of you is painful."

"Poor Killian," I muttered as he inspected the damp patches on his jeans. "Why were you following me anyway?"

And then my breath caught in the back of my throat, 'cos this crazy, _crazy_ idea formed. Maybe I was overthinking. Maybe I _was _crazy…

"Oh," he said, shaking his head. "I forgot to ask you about dinner."

"Dinner?" I asked, my voice raising just that little too high to be natural. "You're asking me to dinner?"

The thud in my chest was turning my blood cold and making me nauseous.

"Um-" his tongue darted out and wet his lips. He pressed his brows together and seemed lost for words for a moment- "No, I mean, not exactly. Mom wanted to know if you'd come over for dinner on New Year's Eve. It's a family tradition."

"Oh," I sighed, understanding, "I've got plans…"

And there was something about the way his face instantly seemed to drop that tugged at my heart.

"…But it's gonna be a late party so I could come for dinner first?"

At that, he smiled. "I'm sure she'd appreciate that."

'Well then…" I pointed back at the door, "I take it you can get back to the sidewalk without assistance?"

"Hopefully," he nodded, "If you find a man shaped snowman out here in the morning, then you know something went awry!"

"I'll bear that in mind."

Silence. Easy silence.

He reached out his hand. Feeling a bit unsure, I took it, shaking it firmly.

"Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Swan."

I walked to the doorway and opened the lock. Looking back, I watched as he made it to the sidewalk and raised a hand to stop an oncoming cab.

And I smiled.

I couldn't deny, I liked Killian Jones quite a bit.`


	4. New Year's Eve

New Year's is one of those holidays that never lived up to the hype.

I remember my first New Year's party - I was a junior in high school and had snuck out, snatching a bottle of my foster mom's tequila from her liquor cabinet. A senior was holding a party and my big crush, Sam Anderson was going to be there. I chugged on the tequila on my way to the party and by the time I'd walked the half hour to get there, I was smashed. I rung in the new year hugging a toilet bowl. That was the last time I drank tequila.

Well, until college that is.

I should have known to quit while I was ahead, that first experience of waiting for midnight failing to meet any reasonable expectation. But I didn't, always trying to make something of the occasion.

That is until last year when I spent the evening watching bad movies with my cat, drinking a bottle of wine (or two) and making resolutions that lasted a grand total of two days.

So, needless to say, my expectations for this year were as low as ever.

I arrived at the Jone's house at 7.30 on the dot. Inside, I could hear the pleasing hubbub of happy chatter over the sound of indistinct music. I clutched a bottle of Pinot Noir in one hand and in the other a batch of cookies I had made (okay, from frozen dough, but it's the thought that counts, right?).

Tink opened the door and greeted me with a warm hug, almost depriving me of oxygen with the tightness of her grip.

"Emma! So glad you could make it!"

Mrs. Jones was right behind her and I found myself bundled from one hug to the other, Tink relieving me of the gifts in my hand as Alice took my coat.

"Mmm, cookies!" Tink squealed as she pulled open the tupperware lid and took a deep breath.

"Oh Emma, you didn't have to, you're our guest!"

I opened my mouth to say it was nothing, really, but then Frank was there, holding out a welcoming glass of wine and I decided to just enjoy the fussing. It had been so long since I'd experienced something like this, I had to admit I was kind of enjoying it.

The air was saturated with the scent of herbs and garlic, tinged with the sweetness of fresh tomatoes. "Mmm, dinner smells delicious."

"It's Granny's signature dish - Chicken cacciatore with garlic linguini. She's pretty heavy on the garlic, she says it's the Italian in her."

"But didn't you say your family was Irish?"

"Exactly," Frank added and I laughed as I followed him into the dining room.

The table was already heaving with dishes. Two large plates of steaming linguini and chicken, platters of bread smothered in garlic butter and overflowing bowls of crisp green salad. My stomach started to rumble as I remembered I hadn't eaten since breakfast.

"You're just in time!" Granny announced. Somehow she was suddenly by my side and reaching up to kiss me on the cheek.

"Everything looks amazing," I sighed as Granny guided me to a seat. "Thank you for inviting me."

"You're as good as family now, Emma. You'd better get used to this!"

Alice beamed at me from the head of the table. I smiled and nodded, nervously, suddenly remembering this was not real. It was fake - a lie. And just plain wrong, wrong, wrong-

"Oh Granny, this smells amazing!"

My self pity was interrupted by a familiar yet jarring voice. I cocked my head towards the door.

My heart dropped to the pit of my stomach when I saw its source.

"Killian," I said, without thinking. Immediately his gaze shifted to me.

"Emma," he nodded briefly, his eyes not leaving mine. "Glad you made it."

"How could I turn down such a lovely invitation?"

I couldn't hold back the silky tones of my voice or avoid the way my eyes followed him as he moved to sit opposite me.

(Oh my God, was I flirting? Was I almost coming onto the brother of my comatose fake fiancé? In front of his family?)

"Well, I'm glad you accepted."

The glance he shot me was a questioning one. The question itself was more evasive, but I could see beneath those cool dark eyes an uncertainty that unnerved me. I clutched my glass of wine tightly and looked quickly away, but not in time to miss the way his head tilted to his left and his tongue pushed into his cheek (I imagined he'd be awful at poker. I barely knew the guy and I could already see he had numerous tells.)

"Well come on then, dig in!"

I smiled thankfully at Granny's voice, grabbing the salad bowl nearest me and willing my lightly flushed cheeks to return to their usual pallor.

/

My original plan had involved leaving around nine: plenty of time to get tanked on cheap wine at Ruby's party, forget (for the night) the ridiculous situation I was in and hopefully pass out before midnight, sparing myself the depressing situation of watching dozens of overly amorous couples clawing at each other as midnight struck.

But well, you know what they say about best laid plans.

Two bowls of pasta later, and I was barely able to move for feeling full. Frank plied me with a other couple of glasses of wine until I was convinced by Tink to at least stay for one game of Pictionary before she went.

It only took some gentle persuasion and she was digging out the board game and corralling the adults into the living room. I took my refilled glass of wine and watching in amusement as the young girl organised the assorted adults into teams.

"Mom, you, dad and Granny make a team. Emma, you're gonna be with me and Killian and Uncle Archie will handle the timer."

I felt an instant warmth on my left side and I relalized Killian was now sitting next to me. "Damn good thing he's not on our team. The man doesn't have a competitive bone in his body."

"Is that so?" I replied, my lips forming a smile as I looked at him with a sideways glance. I'd steadfastly spent the duration of dinner avoiding looking at the younger Jones brother, trying, in fact, to forget he was there. (And failing.) For some reason he seemed to exude a strange kind of presence, like I would know if he was in the room even with my eyes closed. Or maybe I was thinking about this too much.

Still, now he was sat beside me, sofa dipping under his weight, the scent of his cologne wrapping around me, I could no longer avoid the truth.

Killian piqued my interest. In ways I couldn't understand. And while I knew I should keep my distance I found myself turning to him and saying: "So, you ready for some action?"

/

Three rounds in and the game was tied. Turns out Granny was some kind of Pictionary ringer: her drawings were mini works of art. So goddamn clear you'd have to be blind not to decipher them.

It was time for the tie breaker and Killian was up. Tink and I pressed together on the couch, watching as his brow furrowed as he read his card from what was affectionately called 'the question chair' (actually Granny's recliner that had been pushed into the middle of the room).

His marker was poised above the drawing pad that Tink had provided by the game. Archie held the timer aloft, softly crying 'go' as he turned it on it's end.

My eyes narrowed. His hand worked quickly - fast strokes of black on the blanched white paper, his tongue poking out between his lips as his little sister and I watched on eagerly.

"Boat!" Tink cried as he drew something resembling a sail. Killian nodded and rolled his left hand in an encouraging gesture. The next sketch beside it appeared to be a person, but it was a stick figure with scratchy legs and arms and hair made of quick little squiggles.

"Sailor?" I suggested.

"Marine!" Tink cried.

Killian shook his head and jabbed the pen harder onto the notepad. I could see the lines of frustration forming on his forehead.

"Fisherman?"

"Skipper?"

Killian groaned in annoyance just as Archie called called out, "Times up!" The pen Killian had been using was flung to the floor, bouncing on the carpet.

"Captain Hook! Can't you see the hook for a hand!"

I peered a little closer at the drawing. There was a squiggle where the right hand should be. "Sorry Killian, I thought that was just your way of drawing," I apologised.

"Ah, Killian's always been awful at drawing. He's better with his hands."

Alice's words should not have suddenly make me flush hot, wondering just what he could do with those large hands. But I found myself fixating on them as he moved to sit back next to Tink and I, noticing the small hairs on the back of his palms and the pinkness of his knuckles and even how unexpectedly neat and clean his nails were.

(And if I also imagined what it would feel like to have those hands on my skin, tangled in my hair, touching me in forbidden places- well, I banished those thoughts as quickly as I could).

/

It was eleven when I finally managed to make my excuses and grab my coat. Granny had wiped the floor with our team. Killian had been pretty quiet after his first failure. I assumed he just was a poor loser.

"Thank you so much for dinner Granny," I said as I gave the older woman a hug.

"And thank you for coming; it was almost like having Liam here."

I felt a tug in my stomach. Liam hadn't been mentioned much over the past few hours, other than for Alice to say that she was hoping they would try and wake him in a couple of days.

Tink grabbed me in a bear hug and whispered in my ear, "It's almost like I have a sister now."

_Crap, this was getting too much._

I just about managed to smile in reply, hiding the anxiety I knew that was written on my face by turning around as I put on my coat.

"Do you have far to go?"

Turning around, I smiled at Frank. "About twenty minutes. Ruby lives just the other side of the park."

"Well, you can't walk alone," Granny added, "It's dark out. Lots of undesirables."

"Granny, this is a good neighborhood," Archie added, giving me a wink.

"Really, it's fine. I have pepper spray," I explained, holding up the vial I kept in my pocket.

"I'm still not happy about it," she sniffed. "Killian, help out your grandma and escort your brother's fiancee."

I took a breath and looked over at him - so quiet I'd almost forgotten he was there. I was about to say, again, that I could walk myself when before I could he nodded, "Okay."

Color drained from my face; for some reason the prospect of spending more time with him was suddenly making me feel uneasy.

He had his coat on and was standing beside me before I could protest any further.

"Alright then," I nodded, avoiding looking at Killian, "Best be going…"

"Wait!" Tink cried, "Look, you're under the mistletoe!"

And I looked up to see a bloom of mistletoe hanging in the doorway. "Oh, well, it's past Christmas now-"

"No," Alice replied, "Twelve days of Christmas - you have to kiss if you stand under the mistletoe."

"Well, I-"

Beside me, I could feel Killian fidgeting.

"Yeah mom, c'mon-"

"Kiss her!" Granny added.

My heart felt like it was jumping around in my chest. Awkwardly, I turned to face Killian. "Well…" I shrugged. He didn't saying anything, just mirrored my actions, flicking out his tongue to dampen his lips as he did so.

Killian was a little taller than me in my flat boots, so I reached on up my toes, holding my breath and letting my eyes flicker closed as I went to kiss him. He must have moved at the same time as his lips were on mine much quicker than I expected. I sucked in a quick gasp in surprise, frozen for a second as I could feel the warmth and softness of his mouth on mine and almost sensed his pulse through the delicate skin. I tilted my head back and caught his eye just in time to catch a glimpse of something resembling surprise pass over his face, our lips reluctantly parting, our eyes intent on one another until Granny and Tink started to clap.

I smiled, or perhaps it was more of a dopey grin, before nodding and tilting my head to the door. "Well…"

And before I could finish Killian had opened the door and I was saying my final goodbyes.

(And if as I stepped outside, I licked my own lips, and if I could still taste him lingering there - well, that didn't mean anything, did it?).

/

We walked in silence at first.

I wasn't sure what to say. We'd just kissed (briefly). Because of some silly old tradition (and a meddling grandma). And it shouldn't mean anything.

But, damn it, at that moment it felt like it did.

"So, is this a regular new year thing for you?"

His question took me by surprise and I grunted, "Huh?"

"Partying."

"Oh." I shook my head. "Nah, new years is over rated. Ruby twisted my arm."

He seemed to find that amusing.

"I find it hard to believe anyone could make you do something you didn't want to do."

I didn't at first respond but I couldn't help but smile. I guess he'd already figured out I was pretty single minded.

"I could say the same about you," I finally said. "Well, apart from the whole working for your dad thing."

I tossed him a glance and saw him open his mouth to reply before shaking it gently. "Well I guess we have that in common then, don't we."

"Yeah, but only that," I laughed, kicking a half melted pile of greying snow with my boot.

"You think that?"

"What?" I asked.

"That that's the only thing we have in common?"

I stopped midstep. My breath misted instantly in the air as he stopped a second later and then twisted to face me.

"Why?" I asked, a little wryly, "You think you and I are alike?"

His pause made my heart skip a beat. He took a step back towards me. The intense way he was looking at me almost took my breath away. The cold air seemed to melt away as he contemplated something, tilting his head a little to the left in the way I had seen him do before.

"Maybe."

Then he turned back away and continued along the sidewalk. Leaving me to shake off a shiver as I followed him.

/

I could tell that Ruby's party was going well by the thumping music that hit me as we rounded the corner to her place.

"Well, we're here," I announced as we reached the low slung house. It had been left to Ruby by an old relative, never in a million years could she have afforded this place on her waitress's salary. "Thank you for walking with me."

"No problem."

I felt I should just go, open the gate and walk to the front door. But something was stopping me.

The words left my lips before I could stop myself. "Want to come in for a minute? It's nearly midnight-"

"Sure," he replied, without missing a beat.

And just like that he was following me inside.

/

I found Ruby quickly - it was easy, following the trail of men with their tongues hanging out. She was holding court in the kitchen, an oversized martini glass in hand and a 'Happy New Year' headband perched atop her head.

"Hey!" she cried when she saw me. "You made it!"

Shrugging her way past her admirers, she pulled me into a hug. "As if I would miss it," I replied with a roll of my eyes.

"Well, you almost did, it's past eleven thirty already! Come on, let's get you some liquid refreshment-"

She paused as she let me go, suddenly clocking Killian beside me. I watched her eyes widen and her lips form a playful smile.

"Well, who do we have here?"

And of course it was just then that it occurred to me that I needed to explain who he was. My (fake) fiancé's brother? The fiancé who none of my friends knew about. Because he wasn't real and we'd never actually met properly-

"This is Killian, a friend," I too quickly replied, smiling a little too broadly as I gave Ruby a look that meant 'he's off limits' and she quickly relaxed her pose and nodded. "Hey," I said, "We're just going to get rid of our coats."

Before Killian had time to say anything I was pushing him back out into the hallway and opening the closet by the door.

"So I'm a friend, am I?" he teased as he unravelled his scarf.

I had to think quickly.

"Ruby doesn't know about me and Liam yet."

"What?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

I tugged on the buttons of my coat. "She's really judgemental. She'd say it was happening to quickly and that I was being crazy." Pulling out a coat hanger I roughly threw my parka onto it. "I guess I'm just waiting for the right time."

"What, your wedding day?"

I eyed him warily as I had another one of those moments - those times where the wrongness of the whole situation hit me in the gut. There would be no wedding. No day. No dress.

"Just later," I gave him a pleading look, "Let's just keep this between us, please, for tonight?"

He nodded. "If that's what you want…"

I grabbed his coat and tossed it irreverently inside the closet before slamming it closed.

"Yes, it is."

Back in the kitchen, Ruby had lined up two glasses of that she was calling 'party punch' - basically whatever liquor she could find mixed with fruit juice cocktail. I lifted the glass under my nose and was instantly hit with it's strong odor. I was already feeling the effects of all that wine, but as Ruby passed Killian his glass (and I noticed her eyes lingering on his butt) I thought what the hell and lifted the glass aloft, "Bottoms up!".

Copying me, Killian chugged down a huge mouthful, gasping as he swallowed. "Damn that's strong."

"You guys have some catching up to do," Ruby winked as she sidled back up to us. "It's fifteen minutes 'til the ball drops and I want all my guests nicely toasted by then."

"Who am I to argue with a beautiful woman," Killian replied and I shot him a glance filled with confusion. "Come on, Swan, let's drink up."

And the little moment that passed between Ruby and Killian before he took the glass to his lips once more instantly had my stomach tying up in knots.

Hardening my gaze, I turned back to him, throwing back my shoulders, "You're on, Jones."

/

I don't think I'd ever gone from mildly tipsy to flat out rolling drunk that quickly before. (Well, maybe in college, but that doesn't count, right?).

Whatever concoction Ruby had put in the glasses had certainly fulfilled its intended purpose. Halfway through glass two, I was bobbing along to Prince's '1999' wearing a pair of oversized neon sunglasses, with a party horn in my free hand. Beside me Killian was dancing along. He'd scored a 'Happy New Year' hat from Ruby's seemingly endless stash of party goods and he seemed almost as relaxed as I was.

We'd moved into the living room, along with most of the other party goers, the big screen tv on the wall already tuned into 'Dick Clark's New Year's Rockin' Eve'. The clock told us there were just a few minutes left until midnight.

Normally at this point I'd be feeling restless and uncertain - having that contemplative moment where I would ponder the meaning of my life and it's purpose.

But not tonight.

I didn't know whether it was the alcohol, or the company, or the just plain weirdness my life had become - but tonight, I just didn't care. I just sipped my drink, bobbed my head and pretended that life was good.

"One minute!" someone cried from the other side of the room. Everyone began to gather around the tv. There was a gentle tension in the air as everyone laughed and talked. I could feel Killian had moved to my side. It was weird how I could sense where he was.

"Ten, nine, eight-"

Everyone began to chant along. I could feel a happy buzz starting to rise inside me.

"Five, four, three-"

And suddenly, I felt a hand on my waist. Instantly, I knew who it was.

"Two-"

I turned my head. He was chanting along, but he wasn't watching the scene in New York. He was watching me.

"One-"

His hand was still on my hip. I bit my lip.

"Happy New Year!"

Party horns and party poppers filled the air and we were showered with glitter and little coils of tissue paper. Around me, couples were launching into the customary new years kiss as the first bars of 'Auld Lang Syne' began to blare from the tv.

I pushed the ridiculous glasses up onto my forehead. Now I could see him properly, if a little fuzzy in the midst of the liquor. Then I was struct by a thought: I wanted to kiss him. Properly. Not just a peck under the mistletoe, but full on mouth to mouth contact, with tongues and hands and bodies pressed together.

"Oh hey there-"

Ruby appeared, slicing between us, wrapping her arms around Killian's neck as his hand fell from my waist. Before I could think, her lips were on his.

Those lips that _I _wanted to kiss.

I let out a breath of hot hair and began to stumble backwards.

Killian's eyes flashed open. Wide and almost alarmed. It was clear that Ruby was the one doing the hard work. But it's not like he was resisting.

A wave of nausea hit me like a freight train. Tearing my gaze away from my friend and my - my what? I ran out of the room.

/

I was grabbing my coat and tossing the sunglasses into the closet when he found me. Thankfully, I had not been sick, but I still had that metallic taste in my mouth that refused to disappear.

"Hey, you okay?"

"No, I think I had too much to drink," I replied. Only a half lie.

Killian reached in and picked his own coat from the closet floor. "Well let me walk you home."

"I'm fine, really. And you-" I took a deep breath and looked away. "You looked like you were having fun."

"It was just a kiss," he snipped back, ignoring my rejection and tugging on his scarf then pulling of his slightly rumpled party hat.

"Hmph," I replied, my mind suddenly filled with images of his lips pressed against Ruby.

"I mean, she kissed me-"

"You didn't exactly protest. Not that I care," I added quickly.

I was suddenly angry and I didn't really know why. I took out my frustration on the buttons of my coat, roughly pushing them in place before I slammed the closet door.

"If you say so."

Ignoring him, I walked to the door, telling myself I would text Ruby later. The chill hit me hard and I had to tug my coat a little tighter to fight off a shiver.

I was outside and almost at the sidewalk when I noticed he was following me.

"I said I can walk myself just fine."

"And I promised Granny I would watch out for you."

We paused on either sides of the gate.

"Fine," I snapped, "If you insist."

"I do."

/

The cold and fresh air was making the alcohol work double time on my system. More than once I nearly slid on the slushy sidewalk and I cursed my choice of footwear. Killian walked along side me, each time reaching out to stop me falling. Each time met by a sharp, "I'm fine!"

I was irritable and switching between feeling like I was drunkenly floating on air and crashing through my feet.

"Are you okay?" he finally asked after I swore loudly at a hidden puddle that drenched one foot.

"I said I'm fine, just feeling a little sick."

"You know Swan, I'll admit, I don't know you that well-"

"Then please don't presume to try and psychoanalyse me, huh? We're almost at my building."

His face seemed to darken a little and I felt a second of regret. Why was I so snappy with him?

"Okay," he softly replied. And just like that, we walked in silence the rest of the way.

"I'm sorry," I said as I reached the doorway to the building. "I didn't mean to snap at you earlier. I'm not feeling great."

"It's okay - as long as you're okay?"

I looked over at him through my lashes. He was illuminated by the halo of a street lamp. His cheeks were a little red from the cold, his hair dusted with a few freshly fallen flakes of snow.

"Yeah," I lied.

But I wasn't okay. Far from it. Something had unsettled me and my instincts were telling me to run and hide - to crawl into my bed and sleep until everything was over. Whatever everything was.

He looked like he was going to leave, so I fished out my keys.

"You know, Liam has always had a type."

I paused.

"Yeah, and you said before I'm not it."

"No. He goes for the quiet types. Girls who smile a lot and don't say much. That's not you."

I sighed heavily and rolled my eyes, "Yeah Killian? So whose type am I?"

He stuffed his hands in his pockets but didn't respond.

"Thank you," I snapped as I turned back to the door.

"Look," he began. I could hear his footsteps, approaching me. "It's a great idea, you and Liam. It's just not obvious to the whole world."

"Yeah? You know what Killian, I've had a awful Christmas, New Year sucked as usual, I really don't need any more help feeling lousy right now."

"Come on, Emma…"

I twisted on my heel, "What do you want from me Killian?"

"I want you not to be unhappy."

I raised my brows.

"And what are you, the happiness guru? Are you happy? Because I don't remember you having a conversation with your father. You want to leave the business don't you?"

"Hey," he snapped, his tone suddenly harsher, "What do you know about my family? Spending a few days with them does not make you an expert."

"Spending a lifetime with them hasn't made you one either," I replied sourly, turning to jab my key in the lock.

Fuming, I pushed open the door.

"Look, that came out wrong-"

His hand was holding the door open as I stepped into the lobby.

"I just mean, hell, I don't know what I meant anymore-"

"Killian," I sighed, shaking my head. "You are so lucky. Your family are amazing. You have no idea what it's like, being alone."

"You have Liam," he replied softly.

"I don't have anyone."

And with that, the most honest words I had spoken all evening I walked away towards the stairwell. Finally in my apartment, I undressed and fell onto my bed. Exhausted, I fell asleep, my slumber pitted with anxious dreams, none of which I understood.


End file.
